Flemish series This Is Not a Murder Mystery (U&Drama, Wednesday, 8pm, and streaming on Channel 4) offers a classy blend of cosy crime and surrealist art. Silent movie credits set the scene in 1936, where an English aristocrat hosts a private show of surrealist artists on the cusp of fame. After a wild party, René Magritte wakes up next to a dead woman, their heads wrapped in shrouds—a ghoulish recreation of his painting The Lovers.
Detectives and Suspects
DCI Thistlethwaite and DC Quant arrive to lock down the estate, along with bohemian guests: Salvador Dalí, Max Ernst, Man Ray, performance artist Sheila Legge, and war photographer Lee Miller. Magritte is determined to clear his name, but as the show approaches, theatrical murders mount up, each paying twisted homage to the artists' masterpieces.
The Star: René Magritte
Pierre Gervais plays a young, horse-jawed Magritte, towering at about 8ft tall. DC Quant lets him poke around crime scenes and interrogate friends, driven by psychic compensation for his mother's death. The show mixes fact and fantasy, incorporating real surrealist works and trading in lore: Picasso only drinks sparkling water, and Sigmund Freud never shuts up at dinner.
British TV often features a man walking around a garden centre, so the show's European pretentiousness is refreshing. Magritte introduces Quant to repoussoir, a painting technique creating depth of field. “Artists speak a specific language – let me be your interpreter,” he says flirtily, despite being the chief suspect.
Artistic Murders
Actual artists as murderers is a fun twist. The show revels in flamboyant, grisly set pieces. The mise en scène of these murders, blushes Magritte, “is beautiful,” purrs Gala Dalí, portrayed as a nympho. With René playing Poirot, the detectives risk being superfluous. Thistlethwaite approaches his 365th murder case, the milestone for retirement, thanks to his protege's dulled deductive skills.
The real artists are strikingly cast: Iñaki Mur as a rake-thin, tremulous Dalí and Florence Hall as an ethereally beautiful Lee Miller, carrying a glass revolver and hand-chiselled salt bullets. There's irresistible gloss amid the grisliness. This is not just cosy crime—this is Belgian cosy crime, studded with artistic Easter eggs and sumptuous 1930s decor. If someone doesn't shout “I was framed” before the end, the viewer wants their money back.
